


Titanium

by dr_ducktator



Category: Haven - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 11:21:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/621568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dr_ducktator/pseuds/dr_ducktator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duke just wants a quiet evening to himself, but Nathan can't let him have it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Titanium

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers up through episode 3.11 or so, and some swearsies. This is a songfic of sorts, inspired by David Guetta's "Titanium," as the title suggests. Thank you to wishtheworst for the beta!

Nathan’s Trouble, Duke had known for a very long time, was that he couldn’t feel pain. Despite his inability to feel pain, he was excellent at hurting others. 

_Okay, so maybe that isn’t a fair assessment_ , Duke thought to himself. _He’s just excellent at hurting me._

Duke was lying in bed listening to music; it was a playlist Audrey had made for him a while ago, and the music never failed to comfort him. He kept his iPod docked by his bed for “special” mornings like these. He’d just woken up and his bladder was screaming at him after all the booze he’d drunk last night, but getting out of bed didn’t seem like a viable option at the moment. Run-ins with Nathan always made him very thirsty, and last night, judging by how he felt at the moment, he treated his bar like an oasis in the Sahara. He wasn’t even sure how he had gotten home; he was even further confused by the pain pills and water on his bedside table.

Their past was tumultuous, their present not really any different. Where in high school and a little after there were stolen kisses, roaming hands, and the constant threat of being caught, they were happy; now everything was more complicated. The return of the Troubles and the arrival of Audrey added tiers of confusion and distraction to layer cake of fuckedupedness that were Duke’s and Nathan’s inextricably linked lives. 

As “You Showed Me” by The Lightning Seeds ended and “Titanium” by David Guetta began, Duke smiled – Audrey knew he had a weakness for pop music – though it felt more like a grimace; his head was killing him.

He listened to the song, very quietly, mind you, so as not to awaken the kraken that was threatening to smash its way out of his head, and the events of last night started filtering in. 

He’d been at the Gull, cleaning up and having a post-closing time drink or two as he did so. He was crouched under the bar checking on his stock of pint glasses when he heard footsteps.  
He figured it was Audrey coming to say hello; they often shared late-night chats since she’d moved in upstairs. He smiled. Even though Audrey seemed to have brought a shitstorm with her to Haven, Duke didn’t blame her for it. Actually, he loved her a little bit for it; after all, it helped him get closer to Nathan again, even if it was only to be the target of his aggression. He’d take whatever he could get.

A barstool shifted. Duke didn’t stand immediately. He continued counting pint glasses. “A Lager or a vodka martini tonight, Audrey?”

The voice that responded was distinctly not Audrey’s. “Jameson. Rocks.”

He’d know Nathan’s voice anywhere. In his haste to stand up and ask Nathan what the fuck he was doing in the Gull after hours ordering whiskey, he managed to slam the back of his head into the bar.

“Motherfucker!” he shouted and rubbed the back of his head as he stretched to his full height and took Nathan in. Of course Nathan looked like he always did: pissed off. The pissed off face didn’t intimidate Duke, not anymore, anyway. He was intimidated, though, by the waves of nervous energy he could feel coming off Nathan. Duke knew he was in for something, but he wasn’t sure what it would be this time. 

He pulled his hand from the back of his head and looked at it. There wasn’t any blood. He figured things were looking up. He focused on Nathan. 

“Officer Wuornos. What a pleasant surprise.” He pulled out a small glass, put some ice in it, and grabbed the bottle of Jameson he always kept close by. Jameson was his favorite whiskey, and once upon a time, it had been _their_ favorite, too. He poured Nathan his drink and slid it over to him. He screwed the cap back on the bottle and watched as Nathan took a sip.

He still hadn’t said anything to Duke. Nathan always had something to say, and it was bugging Duke that he wasn’t talking. Of course the fact that Nathan’s silence bugged him bugged him even more. No one got under his skin like Nathan. 

He stared at Nathan. Nathan set his glass down and stared back. There was a distant look on his face, like he was sad about something. “Thanks,” was all he said. Duke smiled uncomfortably and set to hanging wine glasses. He refused to take the bait. If Nathan wanted to pout about having the oh-so terrible problem of having two gorgeous women in love with him, Duke would let him wallow.

Duke went down to the opposite end of the bar from Nathan and pulled out a tray with empty salt and pepper shakers on it. When he was nervous he had to do something with his hands. Now seemed like as good a time as any to stock condiments.

He was filling the shakers when he heard Nathan mumble something. The exact words were imperceptible, but he would swear he heard “too much” in there somewhere. The mumbling continued.

Duke sighed and hung his head. He knew he’d have to engage. He set the salt down and walked back over to where Nathan was seated.

“I did not pour too much, Nathan. There is a perfect whiskey-to-ice ratio in that glass.”

Nathan looked up at Duke, startled, as if he’d forgotten he was in the Gull. He frowned when their eyes met. “I wasn’t talking to you, _Crocker_.”

Duke set his hands on the bar and leaned in toward Nathan. “Well, see, I figured you were, _Wuornos_ , since you’re in _my_ bar and there’s no one else here.”

Nathan held Duke’s eyes while downed the rest of his drink and set the glass down on the bar with a loud thud. He didn’t even blink. “How do you do it, Duke? How do you stay so cool all the time with all the shit that happens around here? Isn’t it ever too much for you?”

Duke was tired of talking about the Troubles. He didn’t want to let Nathan ruin his night because he decided to be a melancholy, sad bastard. He pasted as carefree a smile as he could on his face and said, “I’m just naturally relaxed and Zen about everything, so there’s no reason to stress out about this stuff…for the most part.” 

Nathan responded with an eye roll. Duke needed another drink.

He poured himself a very tall, very stiff drink and circled around the bar to sit next to Nathan. He turned on his seat so he was facing Nathan. Nathan didn’t mirror his actions.

“Nathan, look. This shit gets to me every single day. But I can’t stop my life because I live in Crazytown. If I let it bother me, if I don’t push it down, it will eat me alive. So I run the Gull, I run errands of questionable legality, and I play Deputy Duke now and then. It keeps me young.” He stood up, reached over the bar, and grabbed the Jameson. He figured Nathan needed another drink, too.

He hadn’t even finished pouring when Nathan pulled the glass out from under the bottle and gulped its contents.

“Whoa there, cowboy,” Duke said, as he rested a hand on Nathan’s shoulder and returned to his barstool. He expected Nathan to flinch, but then, Nathan wouldn’t flinch, would he? It’s not like he even knew his hand was there. “I know you can’t feel anything, but I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to feel the hangover you’ll have if you keep downing your booze like that.”

With that, Nathan turned on his stool, his knees now bracketed by Duke’s. Giving Duke his dirtiest look, he grabbed the bottle out of his hand and poured another drink.

“Did something happen, Nathan? I haven’t seen you like this in a while, and Haven has been surprisingly quiet lately. What’s going on? What’s all this about?” He was concerned about Nathan; he couldn’t help it. But he was also getting increasingly annoyed. He’d dealt with Nathan “Sullen Asshole” Wuornos for his whole life, it seemed, and the only time he saw him genuinely happy was when they were together. He was pretty sure it was the only time they were both genuinely happy.

But now, Duke had a pretty short fuse when it came to Nathan. It was his fault they fell apart, even though Nathan refused to acknowledge his culpability; that was just another thing he had to push down. And keep down.

“That’s just it,” Nathan said as he poured Duke another drink; he was surprised to see his glass had somehow emptied itself. He must be more agitated than he thought. “It’s too quiet around here. It gives me too much time to think.” He stopped pouring and set the bottle down. Duke could tell Nathan was drunk, but not doesn’t-know-what-the-hell-he’s-doing-drunk. He was more like chatty and sad drunk.

Duke took a long drink of his whiskey and relished the burn in his throat. “Well, you do have a lot to think about, Nathan, I’ll give you that. I mean, what with the Guard, the Troubles, Jordan, and –” 

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Nathan said, cutting him off.

Duke knew that wasn’t what he was talking about, but he wanted more than anything to keep drunk, sad Nathan away from where their conversations tended to stray when they were alone and drinking – to them, to their past, to blame, and to pain.

“Not tonight, Nathan, please.”

Nathan was shredding a napkin. Duke took another drink.

Nathan snorted derisively. “Of course,” he said, and turned toward the bar again.

That was it. The whiskey he’d drunk too fast amped up his annoyance level and he was tired of playing nicely. “Fine. _Fine._ You want to do this? Let’s do this.” He grabbed Nathan’s shoulder and forced him to face him. Nathan wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“I put up with your pouting, your moods, and your slouching around like everything has been designed to hurt you. For years I’ve done my best to coddle you because I felt guilty about what happened between us. But you know what?” He grabbed Nathan’s chin and forced it up. “Look at me, Nathan. You’re going to look at me when I say this.” 

Nathan did, the look in his eyes unreadable. Duke almost swallowed the rest of what he was going to say when he saw his face. But he had steeled himself for this, and goddamn it, he was going to make Nathan hear him. “I have apologized more times than I can count. I stayed away from you because you asked me to. Hell, I even got married! But it was never enough.” 

When Nathan didn’t respond, Duke took another quick drink and plowed on.

“It was never enough. And you know what? I’m done. I’m done apologizing for something I didn’t even do. We didn’t fall apart because of me, Nathan. It was because of you. You couldn’t handle my life. You couldn’t, wait, what were the words?” Duke touched the fingers of his left hand to his forehead, like he was trying to remember something, “Oh yeah, you couldn’t sink to my level.”

As he said the words Nathan formed them silently along with him. So Nathan _did_ remember. That realization pissed Duke off even more. He was standing now, though he didn’t remember getting off the stool. He pointed an angry finger at Nathan.

“I take all the shit you hurl at me, Wuornos. All of it. You say cruel things to me and I try to just laugh them off because I know it’s not me you’re mad at. And I know how fucked up that is; I shouldn’t just lie down and take it. But I do. Not anymore, though. I’m tired of it, Nathan. I’m tired of humoring you and encouraging you and dodging the bullets. It would be easier if you actually shot me with a real bullet than for me to continue to face the firing squad fueled by your never-ending verbal arsenal. Believe it or not, Nathan, I don’t actually enjoy being reminded of what a colossal fuck up I am!” 

His glass slipped from his hand when he flung his arms wide to accentuate ‘colossal’, and it smashed against the far wall. 

Nathan looked dumbstruck. Duke stumbled back a little. They stayed silent for a moment.

Nathan cleared his throat. The words that followed sounded choked by what were probably impending tears. “Duke, I–”

“Nope. Not tonight, Nathan. You don’t get the last word tonight.” Duke stormed out, slamming the Gull’s front door.

That’s all he remembers from last night. But it’s not like last night was anything new. The conversation was a variation of one they’d been having for over ten years. Duke knew it was fucked up, the way he and Nathan treated each other. For all the hateful words Nathan directed at Duke, Duke undermined Nathan’s authority every chance he got. He flaunted his nearly-criminal activities in his face, knowing it drove Nathan crazy. He knew all the right buttons to push. It was a dance they did, and who led depended on the day. When he started to feel like a victim, he reminded himself that he was just as much of an asshole as Nathan.

No matter how terribly they treated each other, though, they couldn’t stay away from one another. Somewhere along the way Duke started thinking of himself as bulletproof when it came to Nathan. Sure, the words hurt, but when he got knocked down he made sure he got right back up. Besides, he had his own arsenal, and he kept it stocked.

The song was ending. Duke’s phone buzzed on the table next to his bed. He looked at the screen and saw the call was from Nathan. He sighed. He was tired. It was a bone-deep exhaustion that extended beyond his hangover. But he couldn’t _not_ take the call. However fucked up it got between him and Nathan, no matter how many times he got shot down, he refused to fall. They still loved each other; that much Duke knew. 

He picked up the phone and slumped back against his pillows. With a small smile on his face he flipped open the phone and said, “Fire away, Nathan.”


End file.
